Until We Die
by Trinity Bellwoods
Summary: Don't you loose sight of me now, because I may be gone tommorrow. S/V. Angst/Romance/Drama...
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks for all of your wonderful comments on chapter two! Um, this is where the story actually starts, hopefully It's a bit more interesting, and a lot less fluffy! Please r/r!**

**Until We Die - Chapter Two**  
Sydney woke up the next morning sprawled across Vaughn's chest. Yawning, she pulled the duvet covers upto her chin, the cold climate slightly getting to her. Streching one hand up above her head, she rolled off of Vaughn, and lay on her back beside him. She could see the clock from her position, it was approaching lunchtime. 

Sitting up, Sydney wrapped a sheet around her body as she streched her other arm, and fixed the blankets so that Vaughn wouldn't freeze. Smiling contentedly, she crossed the villa with the intent to make coffee for herself. Vaughn was still in a deep sleep, streched across the right side of the bed. Trying to keep as quiet as possible, she poured coffee mix into the machine, and turned it on. She set her mug on the counter beside the machine, and pulled her robe on while she was waiting. 

Tapping her fingers against the counter, she watched out the window above the sink, the early and dedicated skiiers on the slopes. On Christmas Eve Day. Sydney felt content for the first time in..forever. Here in France, with Michael, doing nothing all day and...plenty at night. Smirking to herself, she decided to leave it at that. 

Ten minutes later, she was situated in front of the fire, coffee cup in her hands, warming her up. Her legs were tucked underneath her, her hair thrown into an elastic quickly. The fire was still going from last night. Not as big as it was, but still crackling. They had piled about seven logs and poured a very small amount of lighting fluid in it so that they wouldn't have to keep messing with it. She had learned that in the Girl Scouts, and to her suprize, it worked. 

Picking up a notepad and pen that was on the coffee table, she rested the pad on her leg, and started scribbling her thoughts down on the paper. It was a habit she refused to break. Ever since SD-6 had recruited her, she wrote everything down, since in the early days she couldn't tell anyone. Danny had been a good example of exactly what would have happened had she told anyone else. Sighing, she settled back into the couch. Now she wrote for her sanity, and out of habit. She didn't even have to think as the day's thoughts flowed from her brain to her pen. 

Just as she was finishing up a sentance, her cellphone rung. Not wanting to wake Vaughn, she quickly saw the flashing light on the chair beside her. Reaching for it, she flipped it open and answered, half expecting to hear her fathers' voice on the other end. He had disrupted many weekend trips, or just night trips, because of "CIA Protocol". Half of the time Sydney walked into the CIA, Vaughn a step behind her, to her father apologizing for a "false alarm." 

"Hello?" 

"There's a package for you. At your door." 

The voice froze her. There was a 'click' on the other end of the line, as the caller hung up. Sydney felt the goosebumps spring up all over her body as her mind whirled on what she should do. Why wouldn't they leave her alone? Slowly, she sat the writing tools beside her, and crept to her feet. Was the place bugged? 

Creeping over to Vaughn's shirt, she took the gun out of the holster he always wore. It was tangled up in his sweater, the same one that had been shed and thrown last night. It was draped across the livingroom table. Setting the gun, she made sure she wasn't revealing anything through her robe, walked over to the door, and slowly unlocked and tugged the door open. The whole time she pondered on waking Vaughn, but decided against it. It might be easier she just do it. And anyways, Vaughn was a deep sleeper, but if she screamed loud enough for his help, he'd get up. If there was one thing that drove him, it was Sydney Bristow in any kind of trouble. Psysical (which didn't happen too often), Emotional (with happened far _too_ often),...No matter what, he was there. 

After doing a quick survey of the white mountainside, she noticed a manilla envelope on the front stoop. Sweeping the area once more with her eyes, she kept one trained eye in front of her, while she bent down to pick the envelope up. Keeping her back to the opened door, she checked the envelope quickly for explosives or anything chemical, and ducked inside. Shutting and locking the door behind her, she made sure nobody was crouching behind the sofas or counters, and then opened the envelope slowly. "Merry Christmas", was scrawled across the front in red ink. Shuddering at what it reminded her of, she pulled the contents out slowly. It was a thin pile of..pictures? 

They were faced down from her, so after turning them over, she almost screamed at what she saw. Her eyes began watering, her heart quickening and her pulse thumping in her temples. Will...Francie...Jenny...all dead. All shot point blank in the forehead, photographed, and sent to her. Her cries were soft and quick as a thin piece of lined paper fell to her feet. 

Bending over, she picked it up, almost afraid to look at it. 

_Get out of France, get out of LA, get out of the CIA, or Agent Michael Vaughn gets it next. Don't tell anyone. Don't tell him, don't tell the CIA, just run. Run, Sydney, run. Just keep running, and we'll keep finding you. Don't worry...your never alone._

Sydney collapsed on the floor, her cries hysterical. Looking at Vaughn quickly, asleep and peaceful in their bed, she felt her stomach tighten. She began vomiting, all over the pictures, all over the floor. Her hands were shaking, her face no doubt sheet white. Unsteady, she crawled to her knees, and picked the pictures from the floor, where she had earlier dropped them. She knew what had happened to her friends, but it hadn't..._sunk in_, yet. She wouldn't say she was high on adreniline yet, but it just wasn't...processing. 

Wiping her tears furiously, for the first time in her life she was scared of them. They could do it. They'd killed three of her friends. They'd kill Vaughn. She knew it. If she knew Sark and Slone, her mother and father would be dead by sundown if she didn't flee. Vaughn was beginning to stir. Holding her hand to her mouth, she tried to contain her sobs. She wouldn't have time to clean up her vomit...she threw the pictures into the fire, pulled on the closest clothes she could, and turned to look at Vaughn. 

"Merry Christmas, Michael Vaughn. Have a nice one in France. Meet a nice woman, who you can trust and depend on, and get out of the CIA. I'll miss you." Sydney choked her words back, resisting the urge to kiss him once more, or touch his foot or leg in acknowledgement. 

Wiping her eyes once more, she opened the front door, and stepped onto the stoop. Just as she did so, she heard Vaughn waking up through the slightly opened window. 

"Syd?,...Is that you?...Sydney?!" 

Coughing back a sob, she started to run down the icy sidewalk. What was she going to do now? No safehouse, no family, no future, no love, no...Michael. _Damnit_, she cursed herself. _I never even told him I loved him_. Crying into the wind, she expertly picked apart the lock on a nearby green, beaten down truck, wired it quickly, and started out of the ski lodge. Looking through the rearview mirror, she saw the door open on the villa she was in moments ago. Michael looked around, and dashed back inside. 

Sydney slammed her hands against the steering wheel, the adreniline sadly pumping through her. She was out to avenge the deaths of three friends, and the death of a love she never got to acknowledge or live. Steering out onto a small road winding down the mountain, down to the main roads, she banged her hands once more against the wheel. 

"God damnit, Sloane. I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Three - Until We Die**  
It had been six hours. At least. Maybe more. Sydney's thoughts began to run together, as she turned down a dark street in a French village, about two hundred miles away from Beaune, where she had been twenty four hours ago. 

The fear and anger was still very much in her body as she pulled into a small parkinglot of a cafe. Looking around, she tried to figure out where exactly she had driven herself to. She quickly shut off the motor, and jumped out of the car. 

"Damnit, Sydney. It's Winter in France, and all you managed to dress yourself in was a tee shirt and sweatpants." she muttered to herself, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. Walking upto the front door, she yanked it open, and stepped inside. 

It was a quaint little French restaurant, much like something Vaughn had taken her to back in Los Angeles. Eyeing the clock, she saw it was nearing eight p.m. Great, she had been driving for a good ten hours straight, and she still wasn't sure where she was, and where Sloane's spies were. 

Sliding onto a stool at the counters, she waited for a waitress to come over to her. 

"A l'air de bien nous avons reçu une nouvelle face. Que peux-je vous recevoir, le chéri?" _(Well, looks like we've got a new face. What can I get you, darling?) _the forty-something year old waitress asked. Sydney smiled slightly, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. She noticed the woman looking at her oddly, eyeing her silently. Her tone changed, as she rested one elbow on the counter, and muttered, "Seigneur, je ne peux pas contrôler tous ces touristes Américains. Pas un mot de Français, ils peuvent parler."_ (Lord, I can't handle all these American tourists. Not one word of French, they can speak.)_

Sydney smirked slightly, catching the waitresses eye. 

"Je ne peux pas m'excuser des autres "touristes", mais j'aimerais qu'un café chaud pour soit allé, avec la crème sur le côté. Vous prenez des chèques de touristes, la droite?" _(I can't apologize for the other "tourists", but I'd like a hot coffee to go, with cream on the side. You take tourists checks, right?)_

"Bien, nous avons un spunky celui pour une fois. Le Elle de Mon nom Mineault. Qu'ai-t-je le plaisir d'appel vous? " _(Well, we have a spunky one for once. My name's Elle Mineault. What do I have the pleasure of calling you?)_

Sydney accepted the cup of coffee she gave her, with cream in it, and smiled. 

"Jenny Marcus." 

--- 

After forcing herself to have a semi-normal conversation with Elle as she drunk her coffee, she excused herself to the bathroom. Sydney locked the door behind her, and immediately saw what she needed. There was a small window above the toilet, just big enough for her to slide through. Shutting the toilet lid down, she climbed ontop, slid the window open, and crawled out. 

Making sure there were no windows that could have easy access to viewing her around the back, she crossed what she guessed was the employees parkinglot, and came across a shiny new black car. Smiling inwardly, she felt the cold leave her bones as she jogged around to the front, easily picked the window and disarmed the alarm in record time, took the break off, and pushed the car out of the parking lot. 

After she was a safe ways out of the parkinglot, she climbed in and started the motor. She learned the hardway that when you need to get a fast escape - in a car that isn't yours - that you never start up the engine close to it's owner. They always know. Quickly exiting the "scene of the crime", she started to drive down the now dark roads. 

The dark roads and skies left her to wonder about what Vaughn was doing right now. Sighing, she watched the road, and tried not to let her thoughts wonder too much. It was true, she had pretty much no money, no idea where she was going, where Sloane was, what he wanted with her, or why he even contacted her - almost five years after The Alliance and SD-6 had been taken down. 

About three hours later, and two more cities - Biot, and Ranton - Sydney had been keeping track - she checked into a small motel for the night, with the remaining twenty she had left. After crawling into bed, she let herself cry for the first time since she left. What was she to do now? 

**Okay, that was kind of a short chapter, but I have a good idea of where I want this story to go, but I need feedback 'cause it inspired me :D Thanks to everyone who has been submitting!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here is chapter one of my story. I know this one's quite fluffy, but the next two chapters will have the beginning of the storyline, I guess. lol! I would *reallyreallyreally* appreciate some feedback, it definately keeps me motivated :)**

**Until We Die - Chapter One**  
Sydney set her glass of wine on the fireplace mantel, unable to wipe the small grin off of her face. Taking one more sip before she replaced the glass, and left it alone, she turned around to see a huge green tree walking in the front door. Sydney took a double take, before realizing that unless the tree was wearing Vaughn's black army boots, it hadn't grown legs. 

"Oh, that one's beautiful. Do you need some help?" Sydney asked, rushing to the door and holding it open as he wrestled the tree upright. After steadying it, and then heaving it into the room, he turned to look at Syd. "So they just let you take it?" 

"Well no, the villa guy said that he'd just add fifteen dollars to our bill." Vaughn explained, shutting the villa door. It was December 23rd, and Vaughn had an idea to go upto a skiing lodge and villa in France he had always wanted to visit, for Christmas. After taking two weeks from work each, they packed up and got a over booked flight to France. 

"Well, fifteen dollars isn't bad for such a monstorous tree." she paused, a smile creeping across her face. "Are you sure there aren't any racoons or birdhouses still in it?" 

Vaughn chuckled, setting it up in a makeshift stand. It was a bucket that he filled with rocks and water. Hopefully it would hold the tree up. 

"Let's hope not. That would be pretty bad." he paused, surveying his work. "It's tilted and lopsided, isn't it?" 

"I wasn't gonna say anything, but yeah." she giggled, picking a branch up and letting it fall loosely back into place. "It's nice, though. I found some white lights in the decorations boxes in the janitors closet." 

"Don't tell me you used your CIA wit to break into a janitor's closet and steal Christmas lights." 

Sydney grinned, picking up her wineglass again. 

"Fine, I won't." 

Vaughn laughed, accepting the ball of white lights she handed him. After getting frusterated on trying to unravel them and sort them out, he let Sydney take over. She rolled her eyes, taking the lights back, and sitting down in a nearby armchair to untangle them. 

"You would think a janitor would have enough common sense to keep the lights sorted for next year." he huffed, starting for the kitchen. Sydney smirked, as she realized she had just found out Vaughn had a short patience, and temper, for minute things like these. He yanked the refridgerator door open, pulling out some coldcuts for sandwiches. 

The villa was like three rooms in one. It was taupe and white for the most part, a dash of rich brown or red thrown here or there. The kitchenette was in one corner, beside that was the most beautiful balcony Sydney had ever seen. It looked over the French mountainside. You could just see the little dots of skiiers and snowboarders from the balcony. 

There was a huge fireplace and bookcases along the far wall, mostly dominating the room. A loungish-living room was set out infront of the fireplace, the furnature white and tan. And against the farthest wall, was the huge four poled bed, and dressers. The front door was set beside the kitchen, and the bathroom was just off the bedroom area. 

Sydney sighed, genuinely happy as she untangled the knots of tiny lights. Three years ago, she was sitting at home, crying, and holding the picture frame Vaughn had given her. She had wanted to be with _someone _so bad, and now she was. Not only did she feel she was in love, but she had no idea how she ever lived without him and what he gave her. And what was funnier, was that she didn't know she was ever missing or needing something. 

"Your having fun, aren't you?" Vaughn smiled, setting a mug of hot chocolate and piece of cake on the small end table beside her. Sydney looked up at him, watching as he fell into the couch opposite her. She broke into a laugh, watching as he haphazardly lay down on the couch, his head against one arm and his now socked feet against the other. Resting his plate of cake on his chest, and balancing it with one hand, he reached around and set his hot chocolate on the side table beside the couch. Sydney watched him twist, trying to make sure the mug didn't fall and end up in the carpet. 

After watching him for a few moments, she groaned and got to her feet to set the cup down for him. Just as she did so, he yanked her down onto his chest, moving the plate just as she fell ontop of him. The lights scattered to the carpeted floor, a small thump as they hit the ground. 

"I was hoping you'd do that." he grinned, setting the plate on the floor beside the couch quickly. Sydney laughed, trying to get off of his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back down. They disollved into a fit of laughter together, before Sydney took a few fingers' worth of icing from his cake, and mashed it into his nose, lips, and mouth. He was stunned for a minute, getting her enough time to hop off of him and scatter about the room. "Your gonna get it now, Syd." he laughed, jumping to his feet. Sydney darted behind the couch, Vaughn on the opposite side. 

They ran around the room like children, eventually Sydney was standing on the bed, armed pillow ready in her hands as she slightly bounced to keep her balance. Vaughn pounced at her, knocking her against the mattress, and knocking a majority of the pillows from the bed. 

"I told you." he laughed, trying to wipe his face against hers, trying to get the icing off. She shrieked, filled with laugher, as she moved her head, trying to dodge his. He had her by the wrists, holding them above her head as he did so. After getting her face well covered with the white icing, he was just about to lessen his grip, and climb off, when she grabbed his wrists and flipped him over so she was straddling his stomach. 

"Do you do this to all of your male friends?" Vaughn laughed softly, feeling her lips come crushing down onto his. She broke out into a smile mid-kiss, loosening her grip on his wrists. He let his hands run through her hair softly stopping at the back of her head. One of her hands was still holding his wrist slightly. Soon most of the icing dissapeared, the hot chocolate turning cold, and the ball of lights long forgotten on the carpet. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for all of your feedback! This chapter is quite a bit longer, since I actually had time to work on it! **

Sydney Marks - They were supposed to be the dates. I entered them in As Ch.1 - Blah - 12.24.04, but I guess Fanfiction.net removed all the punctuation! So now they're just Chapter 1, 2, 3, etc. 

Lainie - This is set in 2005, so pretty much two years since where Alias is at now. Hopefully that explains it better! 

And now, on with the story ;) 

**Chapter Four - Until We Die**  
Vaughn paced the length of the CIA Debriefing room. Jack, Marshall, Dixon, and Kendall sat around the metal table, silent. 

"Well, what do we do?" Vaughn asked suddenly, stopping dead in his tracks as he looked down to two of his superiors. Jack had been silent pretty much the whole time, Kendall stopping to ask 'Who', 'Why', or 'What' occasionally as he explained his story. 

"Well," Jack paused, studying the table for a second more, before looking up into Vaughn's eyes. "Nothing. I don't think Sydney is the kind of woman to just run out on you, Vaughn. Truth be told, she most likely has a very good reason for her doings, and if I were you, I would wait for her. For all you know, your life could be threatened, or hers for that truth, if you were to try and contact her. I propose we wait it out." 

"What if the days turn into weeks, and weeks into months, and then eventually we just call her dead because it's been ten years since she was seen?" Vaughn shot back. He couldn't believe Jack was giving up on his only daughter this easily. _Did he know something?_ Vaughn wondered. _Jack has never been one to give up so easily._

"I promise you, Agent Vaughn, that if this goes any farther then two months with no contact, we'll send out extraction teams wherever possible." Kendall responded. 

"What do you mean? How are we supposed to extract her, if we don't know _where_ she is in the first place?" Dixon asked quickly. Vaughn nodded. 

"If I know Sydney, she'll find a way to draw only _our _attention to her." 

--- 

One week after her dissapearance, Sydney had "borrowed" several differant cars, one for each day. She didn't want any chance of being found. She had already dyed her hair a bright red, with black tips. After withdrawing all the money she had to an annonomous account, she had bought all she needed to never be found again. A new style, new clothes, and a new personality. 

Driving through the Chicago streets, she tried to find 343 Avalence street. She had been in a small diner about ten minutes ago, buying some lunch. She still needed a place to stay, so she had looked on the pinboard that sat beside the door. Immediately she had found about three apartments up for rent. One in a place of town she wouldn't want to be caught dead, one that was full of smokers, and then the one she was going to look for now. 

"Aha." she whispered, finding the street. She had quickly adopted the accent that went along with Chicago, just one more piece to her disguise. She was now Kate Jones, aged 26, who lived in downtown Chicago. 

Well, soon she would live in downtown Chicago. Because she was determined to sleep in a apartment tonight, and not the backseat of her car, or another cruddy hotel room. The apartments were located on a crowdy Chicago street, overlooking the huge pier underneath it. Smiling at the memories piers brought her, she parked the car outside the apartments, and hopped out. 

"Well, it's now or never." 

--- 

"Jack, it's been a week. Can we at least put someone under investigation? I have no idea about you, but I haven't eaten or slept since she left." Vaughn mumbled, resting his head on the table he had sat at for several days. Jack was just entering the room, when Vaughn had started talking. 

"You need to have patience, Vaughn. Sydney will come back. She always does." 

Vaughn looked at Jack slowly, the muscle in his neck cramping, his pink eyes hurting as the light bounced off the chrome table top. Jack didn't look any different. Maybe a few years worth of wear since Irina's dissapearance back in 2003, but still the same old Jack. No emotions, no open nerves..no anything. 

"No she doesn't. I know Sydney, Jack. If she was fine, she'd have let me know by now. Something's not right, I can feel it." 

Vaughn jumped when he felt Jack's hand on his sholder. Moving his head, he looked up at the older man, who knew Sydney almost as well as he did. 

"Trust me Vaughn, we'll find her." 

His grip snapped off of Vaughn's sholder sooner then he put it on. Jack walked away then, leaving Vaughn alone with his thoughts once more. 

--- 

"Good afternoon Miss..." 

"Jones." 

"Jones. Nice you could come and look at the apartment." 

"Yeah, it's real nice." Sydney smiled, looking around the semi-small apartment. The complex must have just been built, because the walls were stark white, as were the carpets, the kitchen, the bathroom.... 

"So Miss Jones, see anything you like?" the realtor suprized her by coming up behind her. Sydney jumped, her reflexes kicking in as she almost did a spin and took the realtor down. Restraining herself, she turned around, and smiled. 

"I'll take it." 

--- 

This was how she had always imagined the apartment that she and Vaughn would have moved into. It would be basic, plain, boring, when they first moved in. There would be nothing on the walls, nothing in the cabinets, no memories anywhere. 

The first night, they would sit on the floor in the diningroom, where the table and china cabinet would eventually get moved into, and eat Chinese food right out of the carton. They would laugh, and joke, and make memories together in the apartment. 

That night, Sydney sat on the kitchen counter, chewing on the Chinese noodles slowly. Her eyes roamed over the diningroom floor, which was on the other side of the opposite counter. Tearing her eyes away from the spot she could almost picture her and Vaughn in, she choked back a sob, and placed the carton of food onto the counter, before she slid down the cabinets, and sat on the floor. 

Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rested her head against her knees, trying to calm herself. The cold tiles underneath her told her this wasn't a dream. This was reality. She could feel it. _This dream will never be over, will it? I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life. I can feel it..._

--- 

The next day, Sydney set out to get to know Chicago a bit better. She had only been there a few times, and even then she had only been there to retrieve a Rambaldi artifact, steal something, retrieve something else...always the same story. 

Driving through the clogged up streets, she noticed a Used Car lot. Deciding it was for her own good to get rid of the stolen car she was in now, she quickly switched lanes, and pulled the newer Subaru into the lot. There was a shifty salesman hovering near the sales desk. Parking the car quickly, she climbed out of the car, and met the man halfway. 

"Hello, my name's Natalie Kenney." she smiled, an English accent suddenly seeping through the Chicago one. "I've just moved here from Stourbridge, and I'm looking to trade in this lift that my father gave me." she flashed a dazzling smile. "Do you think you'd be as kind to help me?" 

"Of course, lady. Let's take a look at your car." they crossed the parkinglot to her car. Sydney watched as he inspected the car, his eyebrows raising at some points. After ten minutes he was done. 

"Looks like you've got yourself a deal. Which one do you counter you'd like?" 

Sydney looked around the parkinglot, a sharp red number catching her eye. 

"That one." 

"Lady, that's a Benz. Are you crazy?" 

Sydney turned to him, that sickeningly sweet smile on her face once more. Moving more closer then needed, she touched his arm gently. 

"My daddy let me have anything I'd wanted. Now, kind sir, if you'd let me take this one, for that brand new car I'd give in return," she paused to bat her eyelashes. "Well, I'd be ever so grateful." 

The salesman pondered this thought for a moment, his eyes locking with hers. 

"Alright. What did you say your name was again?" 

"Natalie Kenney. From England." 

--- 

Vaughn returned home, his actions tired and weary. He hadn't slept in god knows how many nights. Probably nine. The last time he had slept more than an hour was the last night in the villa. Sighing, he sat on one of the kitchen chairs, a load of work he needed to complete spread over the tabletop. 

Shuffling through the papers slowly, he came across a file he thought he'd never have to see again. Arvin Sloane's face stared up at him, that stupid smirk he always wore taunting him to no belief. 

Vaughn growled, shuffling the stack underneath more of the papers. 

"I'm glad your dead, Sloane. I'm glad your burning in hell." he muttered, his eyes catching the floor before he looked back to the papers. At least he was one man he wouldn't need to worry about tying Sydney's death with. He was dead. 

_Right?_

**If you gave me feedback, I can promise another chapter by the weekend ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Woah, thanks for all of your feedback! I'm pretty proud of this chapter. I'm getting more into the story, you can probably tell between chapter one and this! lol! The first chapter is always hardest for me to write, so hopefully I've grown out of that!! **

star angel - well, I can't post five, but here's one for you ;) I've got another chapter (or two) written, so more feedback, more stories ;) 

colly e. - i realized the exact same thing as I was posting chapter four!!! hopefully this will tie everything together :D 

Thanks to EVERYONE for their feedback! I've gotten two more chapters written, so the more feedback I recieve, the more chapters I post ;) 

**Chapter Five - Until We Die**  
Sydney had been living as Kate Jones for a month. Every day was the same. She would wake up, get dressed, drive down to the Starbucks five minutes from her apartment. She would work there until two in the afternoon, go home, clean up, take a shower, and eat dinner. After dinner she went straight to bed. She didn't feel upto going out, and she also didn't want to take the chance. 

_Did Vaughn miss her?_ She wondered. She sat at the kitchen table she had gotten from a second hand store, drawing patterns on the tabletop with the drops of coffee that were once stuck to the bottom of her cup. She draw half of a heart, wondering if she should bother filling the other half in. 

Thirty eight days into her dissapearance, and she still missed Vaughn. She had never expected to get over him within a week, but she missed him. She missed everyone. Hell, at this point she missed working for the CIA. Sighing, she watched the sun set out her balcony. The living room and dining room (and kitchen, for that matter), was pretty much melded into one. The balcony, glass doors, and livingroom on the far side, bedroom off there, diningroom stuck in the middle, and then kitchen beside the front door. 

She had a nice life, she knew that. She wasn't living in some mouldy safehouse. She didn't have her life threatened, at the moment, by Sark (or Sloane..she had origionally thought he was dead, but hell, now anything was bound to happen.) She didn't have to scrape to meet ends meet. But, even if she _did_ live in a safehouse, and she _knew_ Sark was after her..well, as long as Michael was with her, she would pull through. 

That sounded sappy. She knew it. But at the moment, she was without emotional support. She could psysically defend herself fine - that wasn't the problem. But not having someone when you came home, broken down in tears, well it made her hurt even more. 

She wasn't going to risk Vaughn's life, though. All of her old life, except Vaughn, was dead. Literally. She wouldn't put Vaughn into that position. She would rather live every day for the rest of her life in fear, rather then to put Vaughn through one day of hell. Wiping her hand through the half of a heart, she stood up and dumped her cup into the sink. 

It wasn't going to hurt this much forever, was it? 

--- 

"God damnit, Jack" Vaughn banged his fist on the table. "I fucking _knew _this would happen! God, I should have done it myself. I should have done it myself..." 

"Vaughn, your anger won't get you anywhere." Jack replied calmly. 

Vaughn jumped to his feet, his face an inch from Jack's, his finger taunting him under his face. 

"Don't you say that. Don't you care about your daughter at _all_? She's dead, Jack. She's **dead**, because you wouldn't send out a search for her. You killed your only daughter, because...because I don't know, why did you kill her? Do you have no one else to torture and kill, so you had to do it to your own blood? I will never forgive you for this, Jack. Never. You killed her. You killed Sydney." Vaughn hissed. His green eyes were flickering, penetrating deep into Jack's ice cold blue stare. 

Neither moved. It seemed like hours to both of them, but within seconds, Kendall walked in. 

"Would you shut up, Agent Vaughn? I heard you in the operations area." Kendall exclaimed, throwing Sydney's file against the table. "Well, that's it. You were right, Vaughn. We should have looked out for her. There was one phonecall origionating from her cellphone in Detroit-" 

"Detroit? How come I never heard of this?" Vaughn cut in, his eyes locking with Kendall's. 

"Because, Mr Vaughn. We didn't want you to do anything unrational. We are all very well your willing to sacrifice anything for Miss Bristow, and we didn't want you to put her life in danger, or the agencies, simply because you decided to head on off to Detroit. Can I continue now?" 

Vaughn nodded, taking a step away from Jack. 

"However, it was nothing. We couldn't track the call, however we know it was not Sydney. We also had some intel on stolen cars with someone with Bristow's profile everywhere from France to New York to Chicago, but nothing turned up at those locations, either. So until we get some classified intel, or Bristow walks in that door, we're pronouncing her deceased." 

"Why are you calling her dead if you haven't gotten some intel on it?" Vaughn inturrupted, completely taking Kendall off guard. Hadn't he just said that he was calling her dead, too? 

"After operations searched the villa the two of you were staying at, we found some destroyed photographs in the fireplace." he paused, moving the folder of pictures from one hand to the other. "After analzying them, we've traced the route print number, and reprinted the images that were destroyed. These came back from the _origional _negatives." 

Kendall tossed the manilla folder he was holding onto the table infront of Vaughn. He looked at it for a second, wondering if he should look at it. What if they were pictures of Sydney's corpse? What if they were... 

"Would you open the folder, Vaughn?" Jack spat, reaching for the folder. Vaughn pushed his arm off, and swiped the folder from under his reach. Opening it slowly, he felt his heart break when he saw images of everyone that Sydney loved, dead. Shot point blank. 

"Are these real?" he asked, his voice almost breaking. He had been very close with Will, so it was a kind of heartbreak for him too. Francie had been distant, as Sydney had put it, since they had started seeing eachother, so Vaughn had never really gotten to know her. But it was still hard to look at. 

"Yes. Intel analyzed them, and they are a hundred percent real. We're route tracing the number on each prints. We'll try and place a name with a number asap." Kendall reported, as Jack took the prints to look at. 

"So you think the same people who killed Francie and Will among others got to Sydney as well?" Vaughn asked softly, his heart racing a million miles a minute. _No, no, no...._

Kendall's stare silenced him, as he felt his throat tighten, his lungs twist, and his heart stop. _Nononononononnononono. _ He broke down right there in the CIA operations center. 

--- 

_I wonder if they miss me. I wonder if they sent out any search teams. I wonder how my father is handling it. I wonder if my mother knows. I wonder if Vaughn's gone crazy yet. I wonder if I'll ever see them again. I wonder if Will and Francie got a funeral. I wonder what they told their families.._

Sydney's pillow was slowly growing damp as more tears poured from her eyes. Rolling onto her left side from her right, she hugged her pillow close to her body, pretending she could feel Vaughn's embrace around her. Blindly reaching for her bedside table, she fumbled around for a moment, finally finding her radio and turning it on. A Goo Goo Dolls song filtered throughout the room, making her break into tears even more. No, this song was not playing..no...no.... 

_**And I'd give up forever to touch you  
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't want to go home right now ** _

Sydney's face broke out into a grin as she entered the apartment, her laughter breaking around the hallway. Vaughn was right behind her, slightly tripping over himself as he entered behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her around to face him. 

"Your beautiful." 

She smiled, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. She let his lips touch hers softly for a moment, before the laughter came back and she ducked through his arms. He was stunned for a moment, never thinking she would use her "spy mode" on him. Expecially to get out of a kiss! 

**And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
'Cause sooner or later it's over  
I just don't want to miss you tonight **

She remembered when he had left that night, she had sat on her couch. She had wondered if their live and love could last forever. She had seriously pondered their amazing relationship that night. She knew, it wouldn't be eachother who tore them apart. It would be work, family,...the government. 

She had laughed ironically then, and she laughed now. Through her tears, she broke into laughter at the ironic factor of the question. They had agreed quite early in their relationship that they were in no way a normal couple. They both worked for the CIA, they both went on life threatening missions together...he was her _handler_, for gods' sake. How could they have ever made a relationship work, anyways? 

**And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am **

The only thing Sydney had ever wished in their relationship, was that he was the one person she needn't lie to. She had sworn on her life, that never would she utter one untrue word to him, as long as she was alive. She wanted him to see Sydney Bristow. Not Anna, not Rachel, not Kate...not anybody but _Sydney_. 

**And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming  
Or the moment of truth in your lies  
When everything feels like the movies  
And you bleed just to know you're alive **

Her cries were filled with utter desolation at the point that those lyrics filtered throughout the room. They couldn't have expressed her thoughts more to a "T" then at that point. So many times in her life she felt as though she wasn't real. She felt as though she were a character in a comic book...in a tv show. Anything but real. Many times she had taken the tortue she recieved on so many occassions, just to make sure she still felt her skin. She still felt pain, she still felt...emotion. 

**And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am **

The world wouldn't understand who she was. Nobody did, and nobody would. Nobody except for Michael. But now, Michael knew only Sydney Bristow. As far as she knew, he thought she was,...dead?, and as far as she (and the rest of Chicago) knew, her name was Kate Jones, and she had lived in Chicago for her whole life. 

She made a new promise to herself. She would live her life as Kate Jones. She wouldn't endanger Vaughn's life, or anyone elses. If she was to live in a literal hell on earth for the rest of her life, with Sloane or Sark watching over her back, to keep her family and boyfriend (?) from trouble, then so be it. 

She felt her stomach clamp. 

Was this one promise she could (or would) end up keeping? 

**I just want you to know who I am   
I just want you to know who I am  
I just want you to know who I am  
I just want you to know who I am  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is kinda weird...I took the story in a completely different direction that you guys were (probably) expecting. Let me know if I should go back to the origional story line, or continue with this one. Thanks for all your feedback, although more wouldn't hurt ;)**

**Chapter Six - Until We Die**  
Sydney was bent over the toilet, heaving whatever was left in her stomach out into the white bowl infront of her. Her lungs felt as though they were on fire. Falling against the wall beside the toilet, she haphazardly reached and flushed the toilet. Getting to her feet slowly, she propped herself against the counter with one arm while she proceeded to wash her face with the other. 

She was late for work for the second day in a row. It had happened now, first on Sunday, then Monday, and then today. She had thrown up every morning before work. She had watched what she had eaten - nothing out of the ordinary. So, she decided to go to the doctor's, just to make sure it was nothing more of a flu bug. She was almost positive that's all that it was. She was hopeful, was more like it. Anything else, and she didn't think she'd be able to handle it. 

--- 

"We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Sydney Bristow. Sydney was a loving daughter, girlfriend, co-worker, and friend. Nice to everyone she has met, she's left a trail of footprints in all of our hearts. We will start by having a speech from one of Sydney's close co-workers, Eric Weiss." 

The minister moved off of the podium, as Weiss moved upto it. He bowed his head at the stand, his emotion overwhelming him. Jack was in the front row, still not showing emotion, Vaughn beside him, then Dixon, Marshall...all the people Sydney should have never needed to speak with, simply because she should have never been forced to continue the CIA path she had never chose for herself. 

"Sydney was, undoubtably, one of my best friends." Weiss began, his eyes searching over the crowd. So many people he didn't know. "I knew she was special, right from the moment she walked into the CIA office almost seven years ago now. She is one of the nicest and more cared for beings I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and working with." he paused. "Unfortunately, Sydney's life came crashing down because of work. Sydney passed doing what she was driven to - working for the United States. We've lost a friend, colleage, and lover," he glanced at Vaughn, "but heaven also gained an Angel. We'll miss you Syd, but at least now you'll be with the people who are equal to you." 

Weiss silently went back to where he had sat before his eulogy, beside Vaughn. Vaughn's sholders heaved as he took a deep breath. Climbing to his feet, he started upto the podium. His steps had never been heavier then they were now. It was almost like he was walking upto justify Sydney's death - another lie that nobody knew the truth to. Apparently, she had been killed serving her country. She had "died" defusing a bomb in Cannes. Vaughn knew that wasn't what had happened. Sark, or another evil counterpart, had gotten to her. 

"Never in my life have I known someone as caring and..amazing..as Sydney Bristow was. It was true, she served her country, but it was so much more than that. Sometimes I wonder, is it really justifiable that the one job I chose to do, lead me to her, and then took her away before I could close my eyes? Sometimes I wonder if my life is ever going to fair. If it's ever going to give me something I can keep. I lost my father to the United States Government, and now I've lost the one woman I've ever loved to the same affair." he stopped, trying to keep from tripping over the edge of tears. "I try to remember all the good times we had. I remember the day she walked into my office, along with Weiss, I knew from the get go she was amazing. It just radiated from her. I will admit, I thought she was crazy. Her hair was..._bozo red_...her lip was swollen to the size of...god knows what. But..it grew into something so much more. 

We were allies. Before we had expressed our feelings to eachother, we both knew it was true. There was some connection about us...we were..simply..." he broke down this time. Completely, and utterly broke down. Resting his head in his hands, he barely got the last word out. "....._soulmates_." 

--- 

"Miss Jones, the doctor is ready to see you now." the nurses' voice broke Sydney out of her phase of delerium. Jumping to her feet, she crossed the stark colored waiting room, and followed the nurse through a doorway, and then into a hallway. Three doors down, she placed her (very thin) file into the pocket on the door, escorted Sydney into the room, and then shut the door behind her. Sydney remembered something about her saying the doctor will be with her briefly. 

Sitting on the high bed, she rested her feet on the foot rests. Sighing, she felt her stomach begin to get queasy again. It wasn't that...bug....that had been around earlier. It was something different. It was the feeling she had in Tai Pei...the feeling in France...the feeling in France, six years later... 

Her thoughts were shattered as the older doctor entered the room, grabbing her file and shutting the door in one swift move. He was probably...forty five...maybe fifty, Sydney countered. He looked something like her grandfather. 

Well, her grandfathers' _picture_. 

"Miss Jones! Nice to see you. New patients are always welcomed." he smiled a bright, warm smile. Sydney smiled back for the first time, a first real and genuine smile, since the villa. 

"Nice to meet you too, Doctor Barker. Always a pleasure." she smiled, her words soft. 

"So, what can we do for you today, young lady?" 

"Well, I think I might have a flu bug. These past few days I haven't felt competely like myself. I've been having upset stomachs in the morning, and I get nauceous quite often. At least for the past four or five days." 

"I see." Doctor Barker was scribbling furiously in his folder, "Kate, how old are you?" 

"Twenty Six." 

"Do you have a boyfriend?" 

"Why?" Sydney asked, her stomach getting queasy, her throat tightening up... 

"Just wondering. I think we'll take a few tests, if you don't mind. I do have a good reason that this might be happening to you, but it's always good to be sure before I go upsetting you, or making you wonderfully happy." he smiled up at Sydney. 

Sydney forced a smile back. 

"What kind of tests?" 

"Well," he paused, and looked over his notes. "Blood test, a urination test, and perhaps a pysical examination." 

Sydney nodded, sliding from the bed and following him to the testing rooms. 

--- 

"It'll be alright, Vaughn. We all miss her." Weiss comforted his oldest, and best friend. Vaughn nodded, hugging Weiss before crossing the church parkinglot. He climbed into his car, and started the engine. 

Sydney couldn't be dead...Sydney just isn't someone who dies without fighting. She had gotten out of it so many times, why would one more fight be her demise? And why one day before Christmas, up in a villa in Northern France? Why the night before he was going to propose? Vaughn slammed the palms of his hands against the steering wheel, and then fell against it and cried. 

--- 

"Ring. Come on. _Ring_." Sydney stood in front of her phone. She had been pacing for the most part of the morning. When she had gotten back from the doctors yesterday, almost an hour and a half later, she had just fallen into bed and collapsed into sleep. 

_He promised he'd call today. Men never call. But he's a doctor. It's his job to call. _Sydney argued with herself. She didn't want to find out what was wrong, but not knowing was driving her up the wall. If there was one thing she never had, it was patience. 

Suddenly, the phone's shrill ring echoed throughout the empty apartment. Sydney jumped, and almost dove for the phone. 

"H-hello?" 

"Hi, this is Doctor Barker's office. We're just letting you know we got the results of the pregnancy test back, and it's definately positive. We can scheduale a appointment tommorrow morn...." 

The voice faded out. _Pregnant? How? _

Well, now_ how... _

When? 

**_Pregnant?_**

The reality hit her like a ton of bricks, as she fell to the floor, and began sobbing. She could hear the receptionist asking if she was alright on the other end of the phone, now upside down on the tiled floor. Moving her hand slowly, she rested the receiver back on the cradle. 

No. 

--- 

Vaughn went back to work one week after Sydney's funeral. His coworkers shot him apologetic glances, weak smiles, damp eyes...but nothing worked. Now it was no longer his father's death that hollowed out the majority of his heart. No, Sydney had filled that years ago. Now, it was empty. Without Sydney, he knew he was going to drive himself insane. 

Was it even possible to live without her? 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven - Until We Die**  
"So I take it this wasn't a planned pregnancy, then?" the doctor asked, looking at Sydney over his clipboard. Sydney shrunk into the couch, feeling small under his tedious gaze. 

"No sir." she murmured. She felt ten years younger then she really was. The doctor was speaking to her like a child. _'Now, Kate, I guess this wasn't planned.' _

No sir. 

_'Now, Kate, did you eat that cookie, even when you weren't supposed to?' _

No sir. 

Sydney fanned her face with one hand, feeling the room closing in on her. Doctor Barker was still furously scribbling away, occasionally taking a glance at her. 

"You don't want to terminate it, do you? It's just one more.." 

"No! No. Are you crazy?" 

"Okay, that's a no then." after a few more quick marks, he placed the folder on his lap, and looked at Sydney. "Well, Kate, you'll be fine on your own, won't you? We've been over the basics, you've got the pamplets and the emergancy numbers.." 

"Doctor Barker, I appreciate your concern, but I'm not a baby sitter. I'll be fine." Sydney smiled tightly, wishing she could pop him over the head. He forced a smile, handing her another few pamphlets. She accepted them, and stood up. "I'll make another appointment for a month at the nurses station then, right?" 

--- 

"Weiss, are you fucking insane?" 

"No.." 

"I am not going out with someone two weeks after Sydney's funeral. No." 

Weiss sighed, resting a hand against the door frame. 

"Just think about it, please? You don't have to be a literal boyfriend, but my cousin needs an escort. She's coming all the way down from Chicago, Mike.." 

"Why can't you take her? She's your cousin!" 

"I'm not taking my cousin! That's embarrasing! It's like taking your sister to the prom!" 

"Which I'm sure you've done before." 

"Woah, bitter alert." he chuckled, sitting on Vaughn's desk. Vaughn was concentrated on his coin, which he was flipping around between his index and thumb. "Seriously Mike, what's up? I know you've been having problems..lately, but this is different." 

"I just.." he sighed, flipping the coin into the air, and catching it. "It just doesn't feel right." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Sydney..I just...I feel like I still did, when she was beside me." 

"What do you _mean_?" 

Vaughn shot Weiss 'a look'. Weiss leaned across the office, and shut the door. 

"When my father was alive, you know how you have that feeling in your stomach that tells you everything is alright, and nothing's out of place?" 

Weiss nodded. 

"Yeah, well it was there. The minute I learned that he had..passed, it dissapeared." 

"Right." 

"Well, Sydney filled it up. And you know what's weird?" 

Weiss' eyes opened slightly, urging him to go on. Vaughn leaned closer slightly, feeling as though he were talking about Russian intel. Pausing before he spoke, he felt his stomach knot up. 

"That feeling. It's still there." 

--- 

"God damned window." muttering obsenities underneath her breath, Sydney gave the window a last tug open, and it flew wide open. The cold February Chicago air breezed into the room. 

"Well, looks like you'll have a September birthday." she smiled, softly touching her stomach. There was no doubt about it, the road ahead looked hard, but having something to pull her through, even a tiny little baby, would make all the differance. "I think." 

Sydney was trying to get a room set up for the baby. She knew she wouldn't be getting any help later on, obviously, and with a big stomach it would be both uneasy and unsafe to set the nursery up. So, she decided what better way to spend a cold Saturday morning then planning? 

And she wasn't being sarcastic. 

"Well, we need a wallcolor." she paused, looking around the grey-ish colored room that was currently housing absolutely nothing but a few empty boxes and a stark white carpet. 

"Pink? No. I don't even like pink." she paused, resting her palm on her still washboard flat stomach. "Yellow. Yellow or green would be nice." 

Content with her decision, she slammed the window shut again, closed the drapes, and shut the door behind her. She needed to buy some paint. 

--- 

"So what, you think Syd's not actually...dead?" Weiss asked quietly, still whispering between Vaughn and himself. Vaughn nodded. 

"I know that Francie and Will passed before their time, but Sydney was in France, with me, when they got killed. Either someone's intimidating Syd-" 

"Who intimidates Sydney?" 

Vaughn smiled softly, knowing how strong she was. 

"No one." 

"What if it did happen, though, Vaughn? Isn't this one of the stages of denial?" Weiss asked softly, climbing off of Vaughn's desk. Vaughn ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to think. 

"Yeah, I think so. I just...don't know yet, Weiss. Something just doesn't feel right." 

Weiss nodded, opening the door halfway. 

"Well, let me know if you need anything. Alright Vaughn? Don't go making any harsh decisions because you've got an itch that Sydney is still," he nodded, "you know. _Alive_." 

Vaughn nodded, waving him off with the back of his hand. Weiss took one more look at Vaughn, and then left the office without uttering another word. 

--- 

** Well, that was chapter seven! I'd love more feedback, because you all rock :D Here's my "shoutouts": **

Lainie - lol! Thanks for your comment! My fathers actually from Beaune, so I just had to use it somehow ;) It's an awesome place, I've visited twice before! 

Thanks for ALL your comments though! Let me know how long you think I should keep S/V apart! Feedback rocks :D And sorry that was was kinda short, but next one will be big! That just felt like a good place to end it! Thanks :D 


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